


Silent, but Deadly

by Pirate_Spoon



Category: Fallout 4
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-27
Updated: 2020-02-04
Packaged: 2021-02-27 11:14:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 1,898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22436224
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pirate_Spoon/pseuds/Pirate_Spoon
Relationships: Nick Valentine/Original Male Character(s)
Kudos: 1





	1. Deacon Finds a Protege

I spin the dial, putting in the code.

R-A-I-L-R-O-A-D.

The dial spins again, then the passage opens. Smart.

I take a small step in. It's pitch black.

I get out my knife, ready for anything.

Suddenly, the lights come on, and three people stand in front of me.

"Stop right there." The woman in the middle says as another woman next to her starts to rev a minigun. "You went through a lot of effort to arrange this meeting. But before we go any further, answer my questions."

I put my weapon away, as a man starts walking up behind her.

"Who the hell are you?"

The man, wearing a white shirt and jeans, walks up behind her.

"Woah, so he finally shows up!" He says, stepping off the ledge, and comes to wrap his arm around my shoulders.

I brush it off aggressively.

"Deacon." The woman says. "Where have you been?"

"You're having a party. What gives with my invitation?" The man, Deacon, asks. "This kid is a _killing machine_ , boss. Kinda quiet, but he'll warm up to us. Maybe."

"You're vouching for him?"

"Yes." Deacon says. "Trust me, boss. We want him on our side."

"Well, this changes things." She says. "I'm Desdemona, and I'm the leader of the Railroad. And you are-"

"Let's call him Shadow." Deacon says. "This kid isn't gonna talk for a while, so we might as well chose for him."

He looks at me.

"What do you think?" He asks. "We go by codenames here. Shadow fits you, right?"

I shrug.

Shadow. Guess it could be worse.


	2. An Effort Was Made

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A few weeks have passed, as Deacon continues to pester Jax into talking to him.

"So, how old are you, anyway?" Deacon says, sitting beside me. "Maybe you're ten, or 20. Who knows, right?"

I scoff, looking away.

"Someday you'll talk." He says, looking at me. "Or maybe you're just deaf. I could totally get P.A.M. to teach me sign language."

I get up, starting to walk away. He gets up too, walking beside me.

"Y'know, we could totally do some damage out in the Commonwealth." He says as I, now we, start to leave HQ. "Imagine us, out there, kicking Brotherhood ass-"

"Can you just-" I snarl, looking at him. "Shut up. For one fucking second."

"Hah, I knew I'd annoy it out of you." He chuckles, and I sigh. "Not what I thought you'd sound like, but-"

"I'm serious." I growl. "Shut up."

"Well, it's a start." He sighs. "So, are you always so monotonous?"

"I don't feel because I don't _need_ to." I say back. "Feelings get you _killed_."

"Buut, feelings also get you friends." He says as some raiders rush at us. "You see, friends can-"

I pull out my knife, easily blocking an attack, and slash a raider's chest, grab another to use as a shield, as I throw my knife, the blade going right into another one's face, and snap the neck of the one in my arms.

"Who needs friends when you can do _that_?" I say back, looting the raiders.

He didn't even fire a single shot.

"What are you waiting for?" I ask him. "Diamond City awaits."

-Timeskip-

I open the gate, walking up the stairs.

"Ugh."

"What?"

"Always hated being here." I sigh. "You say some synth works here? He can help?"

"Yeah, he should be." He says, starting to walk down the stairs. "Here, follow me. I'll show you where his hideout is."

He brings me to the alleyway, and a pink neon sign catches my eye.

Valentine Detective Agency.

_What a cheeky bastard._

I open the door, seeing a woman in obvious distress.

I sigh, looking at him.

I signal for him to talk to her.

I'm not good at comfort, anyway.

He manages to get her attention, and she explains that the detective's gone missing.

What a cliche.

I scoff and turn for the door as soon as I hear her say Park Street Station.

Let's go save him.


	3. The Man of Metal

I walk up to the window, where Valentine is being held.

He's... He's a Gen2.

Except, I've never seen a Gen2 that was sentient.

Interesting.

I override the door controls, looking at him from the doorway.

“Hey, there.” He says, a kind smile on his face. “Nick Valentine. Your name is?”

He reaches out his hand, but I don’t take it, looking away from him.

“Not much of a talker, are you?” He asks, and I start walking away. "Alright."

We walk down some stairs, and he crouches down, pulling me to do the same.

Three triggermen walk in, moving to different areas of the room.

“There they are.” He whispers, looking back at me. “Here, just stick to me, and follow my lead-“

I stand up, whistling loudly to get their attention, pulling out my combat knife, as they all run to me, weapons ready.

"Kid...!" Nick shouts, stunned.

I kick the knee of one of the thugs, driving my knife into the back of his head, pulling it out, using the momentum to slit another one’s throat in one fluid motion, and then drive the knife into the jaw of the third one, pulling it out swiftly, as blood pours out of the wound.

“...Huh.” He says, still standing at the bottom of the stairs.

I look back at them and signal that the coast is clear.

"Where'd you learn to do that?" He asks, walking up to me.

I just look at him.

"Ah, the old silent treatment, huh?" He jokes, starting to walk. "Guess you've been doing this for a long time. Alright, kid. I'll play along."

He walks in front of me, loading his gun.

"I won't ask you any questions until you say something." He says, looking back at me. "That sound fair?"

Those yellow eyes tear into my soul.

Nobody... Nobody's ever looked at me like that... the kindness in his eyes...

What's _wrong_ with this guy?

I mean, being gullible enough to fall into a trap like this, and looking at me so acceptingly after I just killed three people in front of him...

Does he realize being this nice can get him _killed?_

 _Hell,_ now I realize why that secretary of his worries so much about him. This guy's an _idiot_.

An idiot... that makes me...

That makes me _feel._


	4. Speculation

I watch him move around, starting a campfire and making me food, like I can't do it myself.

I'm sitting on a sleeping bag, just watching him do all this. He looks around, catching my gaze.

"What?" He asks, looking away, almost shy. "You don't gotta look at me like that, kid. I'm just trying to help. You look exhausted."

I shrug, looking away.

I'm just trying to figure you out, Nick.

The kind looks, the helpful acts... how are you not dead yet?

"Well, kid..." He sighs, looking at me. "If you're wondering how I haven't gotten killed yet, I've been doing this thing for a century. I know how people tick."

My gaze snaps back to him, eyes wide.

"No, you didn't say anything out loud." He chuckles. "I'm just good at figuring out what people are thinking."

I let out a surprised laugh.

"It's a blessing and a curse." He says, and we chuckle. "Though I wouldn't _mind_ hearing you talk."

I sigh, looking away.

"Look, I get you don't like opening up to people, kid, but-"

"Stop calling me kid." I say quietly, taking him by surprise. "It's annoying."

"What was that?" He asks, like I didn't even speak English.

"Stop calling me kid." I say louder. "It's annoying."

"Well, is there something you would like me to call you?" He asks, and I look away as I answer.

"Jax..." I say quietly, and he smiles softly.

"What was that?"

"Jax." I say louder. "Short for Jaxston. It was my mom's idea."

"Jax..." He says, and smiles. "Not a bad name."

I... I _love_ the way it rolls off his tongue.

I look away, feeling my ears burn. This is a new feeling.

In fact... _all_ of these feelings are new.

It's like they _all_ show up at once, and they all hit me like a _train_.

I look back at him slowly.

I don’t think he’s realized it yet, but... he’s staring at me.

With a look on his face I can’t really figure out.

”Anyway...” He sighs, looking at the pot. “Your food is ready. I’ll keep watch while you eat.”

He gets up, getting his gun, as I move to the fire.

I carefully move the pot from the stove, watching him leave.


	5. Rejects

"So." He says, sitting in front of me. "Who are you, Jax?"

I look at him.

"A shit person." I say back, and he chuckles. "Why do you want to know, anyway?"

"I'm curious." He says back. "I want to know what you like, what you don't. I want to know your interests."

"I don't have interests." I scoff. "I don't care about liking something, either. All I'm focused on is staying alive."

"That may be true, but showing a little emotion can't hurt, can it?"

"I don't have emotions." I say back. "I don't feel. Don't need to."

"And why is that?"

"Do you always ask such annoying questions?" I scowl, and he chuckles.

"Comes with the job." He says back, smiling.

"Stop asking questions." I say back, and he chuckles.

"Can't do that." He says back, almost jokingly. "Not until you answer. After all, you've had a peek at my dirty laundry, but I haven't gotten to see yours."

"Do you realize how stupid that sounds?" I ask, and he laughs. "Do you normally talk like this?"

"Yes." He says back. "Though it's not voluntary. You see, there was another Nick Valentine, back before the bombs dropped. I'm supposed to be more like him than my own man."

"So you're not even you?" I ask, and he shakes his head.

"Not quite, but sometimes it feels like it." He says back.

I hear him sigh, and he looks back at me, his expression serious.

"Look, I have a question that's been on my mind for a while."

"What."

"Where are your parents?" He asks, and I sigh. "You look so young... how long have you been on your own?"

"I lost count." I say back. " _Years_."

"And your parents?"

"Somewhere out there." I scoff. "They'd be better off dead."

"Why's that?"

"They abandoned me." I say back. "Raiders attacked, and instead of fighting, they joined up with them."

"Your parents left you behind for _raiders_?"

"Yep." I say, smirking, holding my arms out as I talk. "Welcome to the fuckin' Commonwealth, where everyone _hates_ everyone, and parents leave their kids for _dead_."

"Well, you're not dead yet, so you must be doing something right." He says, and I scoff. "How'd you learn to fight the way you do?"

"I... I don't remember." I say, and he laughs. "No, really. I don't remember. It's like I went to sleep not knowing how to even hold a weapon, and woke up the next day forcing a knife into some guy's throat."

"I can't really judge that." He says, looking away. "I went to sleep one day completely human, and woke up the next with plastic skin, laying in the Institute's garbage. Though, I guess, that first one wasn't really _my_ memory, anyway."

"So then we're _both_ rejects." I say, and he chuckles.

"Looks like we are."


End file.
